


A Morning in the Life

by HollowPixie



Series: Happy (Convoluted) Family [1]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: A literal example., Autistic Martin, But it isn't mentioned in this one., Canon Autistic Character, Kid Fic, MJN Air Is A Family, family au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28247406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowPixie/pseuds/HollowPixie
Summary: "Douglas and Carolyn were on the best terms a divorced couple could possibly be. They had their ‘healthy, spirited debates’, of course, on a regular basis, behind the closed doors of the house they still shared once more, after their next marriages broke down, but other than that, they were on good terms, largely for the sake of the children, even the ones they didn’t share."A typical morning in the Richardson-Knapp-Shappey household, on the first day of term.
Series: Happy (Convoluted) Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069223
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	A Morning in the Life

Douglas and Carolyn were on the best terms a divorced couple could possibly be. They had their ‘healthy, spirited debates’, of course, on a regular basis, behind the closed doors of the house they still shared once more, after their next marriages broke down, but other than that, they were on good terms, largely for the sake of the children, even the ones they didn’t share. They were at a point where 6-year-old Arthur regularly called Douglas Dad by accident. Then again, he did the same to his ‘Uncle’ Herc, a close family friend. And his teacher, and the man in the corner shop.  
And a cold-caller, but these are all a story for another day.  
“Pixie! Downstairs, or we’ll leave without you.” Verity called.  
“Oh, leave her, it’s her first day of Year 1.” Douglas scolded, trying and failing to hide his amusement. “You were that age once too, weren’t you nervous?”  
Verity shrugged. “I don’t remember. I doubt it.”  
“Do you, now? Well, I seem to remember a little dark-haired girl by the name of Verity desperately clinging to my shirt, and trying to hide behind me. Am I to take it that my memory is failing me?  
“It’s old age. Dad, about my birthday—”  
“No, you can’t go clubbing, you’re 14.” was the immediate response.  
“Well, I’ll be 15 then! Is it because I called you old? Because you’re— Well, I can’t exactly lie, you know as well as I do. How did you even find out?” questioned Verity, frustratedly.  
“Herc mentioned.”  
“Traitor… He heard me on the phone to Pippi, when he was babysitting.” Verity sighed, the last word heavy with distaste.  
“Yes, I know. Then you begged him not to tell. If it helps, he does feel slightly guilty about it. How long are you going to be bitter that we called it babysitting?”  
“Check in a couple of weeks. It depends on my birthday.”  
“Duly noted, though it does sound rather like a form of blackmail.”  
“Good.”  
“Pixie? Are you getting ready?” Douglas checked, receiving no response.  
“Do you want me to go and check on her?” asked Verity.  
“If you wouldn’t mind, darling.”  
As Verity made her way up the stairs, accompanied by an exaggerated sigh, Arthur passed her, taking the stairs two at a time, and tripping on the last one. Douglas hastily caught him, with a chuckle. “Good morning. Alright?”  
“Yeah! I lost count, and forgot there was another stair.” Arthur explained, grinning as always.  
“Fair enough. Count more carefully, next time, eh?”  
“But there’s so many!”  
“I take your point, I forgot I was speaking to the boy who invented the number eleventeen.”  
Arthur smiled, proudly. Though he didn’t mean to invent that, it was by far one of his best inventions. Much better than fizzy yoghurt.  
“Now, go and find your shoes. Matching ones, on the right way, if you please.” Douglas instructed, with emphasis.  
“Yes, D—ouglas.”  
“Oh, wonderful save. Good lad, off you go. Oh, before you do, have you seen Martin?” Douglas asked.  
Arthur shook his head. “Not yet, but you know he goes funny on the first day of term.”  
“I know all too well. Do you think he’s alright?”  
“Dunno! Hope so!” was Arthur’s simple response, as he practically skipped off to find his shoes.  
“Thank you, Arthur, helpful as always.” Douglas snarked, mostly to himself, as Arthur was long gone.  
He took the brief moment of quiet as an opportunity to lean against the wall, with a heavy sigh, and relax for a while.  
A very short while, as it turned out.  
“Douglas, how are we doing?”  
“Well, it was lovely while it lasted.” Douglas sighed, under his breath. “Morning, Carolyn. Verity’s ready but annoyed, Arthur’s finding his shoes… In theory, anyway, and Pixie and Martin are M.I.A.” he rattled off. “I’ve sent Verity to check on Pixie.”  
“Right. Well, that’s a decent start. I’ll supervise Arthur, you go and keep an eye on breakfast.” ordered Carolyn in a rather militant fashion.  
“Roger that.” Douglas agreed, making his way to the kitchen. There was enough food on the go to please everyone. Toast in the toaster, a freshly cooked fry-up, and pancakes, because Arthur and Pixie begged for them, the night before.  
“Come on, Mum, it’s Pancake Day!” Arthur had said.  
“No it isn’t.”  
“Well, any day can be Pancake Day if you have pancakes! Please, Carolyn?” Pixie had pleaded, her big blue eyes impossible to resist.  
Douglas grinned at the memory, and started setting the table, as he waited for the toast.  
Domestic bliss was never the curious family’s forte, exactly. It was usually closer to domestic chaos, but Douglas found it highly enjoyable, most of the time. When the children weren’t at each other’s throats, or, in the case of Verity and Martin, stressing over homework. Arthur never seemed to stress over anything, and the homework of a Year 2 pupil wasn’t especially complicated, even by Arthur’s standards.  
“Daddy?”  
Douglas turned, to find a tiny, angelic blonde figure in the doorway, staring up at him with her bright blue eyes. “Hello, Pixie-Stix. You alright?”  
Pixie nodded, hesitated, then shook her head. “I don’t know.”  
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. Nervous?”  
Pixie nodded once more.  
“Oh, you’ll be fine. Stick with Martin and Arthur, they’ll still look after you. It won’t be too different to Reception. I’m sure you’ll do brilliantly.” Douglas assured her, making her smile. “Is there anything I can do for you?”  
Pixie simply held her arms out. Douglas grinned, and hugged her, tightly. “How’s this.”  
“Perfect.” Pixie replied, giggling. “Thank you!” she sing-songed.  
“Any time. Now, is that all you came in for?” asked Douglas.  
“I think so…”  
“So, you were simply taking your tie for a walk?”  
“Oh! No… Would you help, please?”  
“Of course, darling.”  
Pixie held her new tie up to Douglas, who gently took it from her and started to tie it. “I’ll teach you how to do this yourself, soon. You’ll need to know, you’ll be doing it for a long time.”  
Pixie stared down at Douglas’ hands, studying every move he made. Most children wouldn’t have to learn to tie a tie before they could even tie their shoes, but Carolyn and Douglas had both vowed to accept nothing but the best for their children, and that meant the best schools. An elite one, but also the one they thought the children would be happiest at. Luckily, so far, the same one had served all of their children well. Douglas had toyed with the idea of sending Pixie to an arts school, to study musical theatre, which she loved so dearly, but Carolyn convinced him that it was best to let her get a few years of normal education, first, and she could always do drama on the side.  
Despite often protesting, Douglas accepted that Carolyn knew what was good for both of his girls. She may not have been their biological mother, but she may as well have been, as both girls’ mothers were somewhat distant, both physically and emotionally. In Barrow-and-Furness and Montpellier, respectively. Pixie saw her mother for the latter half of the summer holidays, Boxing Day and the day after, and a bit of the Easter holidays, every year, and they had regular calls. Verity’s mother, on the other hand, made rare, unpredictable flying visits, and very occasional calls, which often ended up being while Verity was at school. She blamed it on the time difference, which Douglas wasn’t convinced by. France was only an hour ahead, after all.  
The moment Douglas was finished with Pixie’s tie, she noticed the pancakes, and gasped, eyes alight. “Pancakes! Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, she did it, just like she said she would!”  
“Did what?” Arthur quizzed, excitedly, as he hopped into the room, with one shoe.  
“Arthur, get back here!”  
“Sorry, Mum!” Arthur called. “Ooh, pancakes! Brilliant! Who did what, Pixie?”  
“It was about the pancakes. It worked! exclaimed Pixie, who was immensely pleased with herself.  
“Yay! Thanks for the pancakes, Mum!”  
“You’ll get your pancakes in a minute, come and get your shoe on!” Carolyn insisted, growing more frustrated by the second.  
“Arthur, I would do as your mother says, and quickly.” Douglas told him. “You know what it’s like on the first day of term, and don’t get me started on the traffic. Actually, correction, don’t get your mother started on it.”  
Arthur nodded, and hopped away.  
“Now, where the hell are the others?” Douglas wondered.  
Pixie stared, eyes wide. “You said the hell word.”  
“Sorry, darling…” said Douglas, distractedly, before he realised. “So did you.”  
“Don’t tell Carolyn.” they chorused.  
They shook on it, then Douglas asked, “Did Verity come upstairs to see you, earlier?”  
“Yeah, why?”  
“Where did she go afterwards?”  
Pixie considered this, and eventually concluded, “I have no idea.”  
“Right. Are you all ready?”  
“No, I don’t have my shoes yet.”  
“Go and find Carolyn, she’ll help you.” Douglas said, making his way to the hall. “Verity! Martin!”  
Verity soon made her way downstairs once more, on the phone to a friend. Pixie stared down at her legs. “Her skirt was longer before…”  
Douglas bit back a laugh, and sent her on her way. Verity avoided his gaze, reddening.  
“And, who are you on the phone to?” Douglas questioned, amused.  
“None of your business… No, Thomas, not you!”  
Verity shot Douglas a quick glare. “I’m going to wait outside.”  
So, she did so, followed by the sound of Douglas’ poorly concealed laughter. Carolyn popped her head around the door, and raised an eyebrow. “Something amusing?”  
“No, no, nothing in particular. Is Arthur all ready?”  
“Somehow. Have you seen Martin?”  
“No, not yet… Do you think he’s alright? Not ill, or anything?” Douglas mused, frowning.  
“He seemed alright last night, but this isn’t like him at all. You’d better go up there.”  
Douglas could have quipped about being Carolyn’s personal servant, but in the circumstances, and considering the time constraints, it didn’t seem like the best plan for a man who intended to live another day. So, he went to Martin’s room, in silence, and knocked on the door. “Oh, Martin?”  
“Come in.” Martin called, rather confused.  
Douglas did so, and found Martin sitting on his bed, fully ready for school, reading a book on aeroplanes. “Well, at least you’re ready. You alright?”  
Martin blinked up at him, with a small frown. “Er, yes, Dad. Why?”  
“Didn’t you hear me calling?”  
“You called me? I must have been lost in this book. But, I’ve got plenty of time, don’t I?”  
“I beg to differ, Martin.”  
“But, look at the clock!”  
Douglas looked to Martin’s clock, and frowned. “Ah. As I suspected. It looks as if your clock’s stopped, Captain.”  
“What? No, it can’t have!”  
“I’m afraid so.” Douglas confirmed, holding his watch-clad wrist out to Martin. Martin stared at it, eyes wide, and scrambled downstairs, book in hand. Douglas followed at a much more dignified pace, and heard Martin muttering, “Late, late, late…”  
“It’s alright, Martin, take your time. The others aren’t ready yet, you still have plenty of time.” Douglas assured him.  
“Right… Promise?”  
“Of course. Now, let me look at you. Very good, Martin. Tie, shoes, everything… If all my children were this organised, I’d have a much easier life.”  
Martin grinned, standing up tall, and Douglas couldn’t help but ruffle his hair.  
“Dad!” whined Martin, though he was still grinning.  
“I’m sorry, Martin, the temptation was too much to resist. Breakfast?”  
“Yes, please.”  
They made their way to the kitchen, and started having breakfast, soon joined by Arthur, who was chanting about pancakes.  
“Oh, by the way, Uncle Herc’s coming over for dinner, tonight.” Douglas informed the table.  
Martin and Arthur’s eyes lit up, and Pixie practically sprinted over in her excitement.  
“He is?”  
“Yes, little Pixie. So, you’ll have a captive audience, and Martin will have someone else to answer all of his questions on planes, while I… Wash dishes, probably.”  
“Yay!”  
“Yes… For you. Sit yourself down, and have some breakfast.”  
Pixie gladly did as she was told, and the rest of breakfast passed fairly quietly. Afterwards, Douglas stood. “Right, let’s see… Arthur’s supposedly ready, Verity’s outside, probably still on the phone, and she had breakfast ages ago, Pixie, you’re ready now, aren’t you?”  
Pixie nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Daddy.”  
“Well, I think we can probably afford to get in the car, now. Fetch your bags off the hook. Martin, are you taking that book?”  
“Yes, the book is being… Took.” Martin said, trailing off towards the end, as the group went through to the hall.  
“A valiant effort. Don’t look so disappointed, you’ll learn. Carolyn! We’re off, now.” Douglas informed her.  
Carolyn entered, and surveyed the children. “Yes… You’ll do, children. Goodbye, and good luck. Douglas, you’re missing one.”  
“Verity’s outside. Do you think so little of me? Even Arthur can count to four.”  
Arthur nodded, grinning.  
“See? We’ll fetch her on the way. Goodbye, Carolyn.”  
The children all hugged Carolyn, in turn, and swarmed out of the door, chattering to each other. Douglas soon followed, car keys in hand.  
“Yellow car!” announced Arthur.  
“That’s an ice cream van!” Martin protested. “The game isn’t ‘Yellow Ice Cream Van’!”  
“No, but that sounds fun too!”  
Verity gave a long sigh. “Shush, I’m on the phone!”  
“You’re always on the phone!” Pixie whined. “Is it Thomas again?”  
“No!”  
“Hi, Thomas!”  
“Shut up, Pixie!” Verity hissed.  
“You’re not supposed to say that to me. Daddy!”  
“No, you’re quite right, Pixie.” Douglas said, placating her. “Verity, don’t.”  
“But, she—”  
“I know, but you can’t tell her to shut up.”  
Verity huffed, glowering. “You’re only saying that because she’s the youngest.”  
Douglas sighed. It was going to be a long drive.


End file.
